


Apocalypse Today

by Emerald15



Series: Superhero AU [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Powers, F/M, M/M, Non-Band AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Superheroes, Violence, single parent gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald15/pseuds/Emerald15
Summary: On the outside, Frank’s life is pretty average; he’s single, works at a local music store, and most importantly, loves his little dog to death. While his life seems average, Frank definitely isn’t. Even though he loves his secret, he must keep it exactly that. Things are pretty normal (for him) until a red haired artist captures his heart. Can Frank still keep his secret, protect his city, and the man he loves? What happens when a new enemy decides to rear their head?





	1. Burn Bright

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this sucks. i got bored with doing uni work xox

The man hissed as the handcuffs tightened around his wrists. “Watch it, will ya? Prick.”

 

He was ignored by the superhero. It was almost cliché; three masked men running into a nearby bank, waving and shooting their guns into the air as they demanded everyone to get onto the ground. Unbeknownst to them, several of the cashiers had pressed the distress call button underneath their desks before being taken hostage. Then, as flashing blue lights surrounded the building, the city’s masked superhero, The Rapid Storm, quite calmly, strode inside. The robbers lacked any fighting skill, making it a relatively easy job to disarm and apprehend them. He’d barely needed to use his powers.

 

“Is that them, sir?” the officer in charge asked as he approached.

 

“Yes,” was the clipped answer. The policeman nodded, then turned to his team and began to bark various orders.

 

Rapid took that as his cue to leave. Time was getting on and he was in no mood to hang around, making sure the criminals made it back to the station. Hopefully the police were competent enough to do that simple of a task.

 

Outside, in a nearby deserted alley, Frank rematerialized. Ducking between two dumpsters, he quickly began to undress. The bag he’d stowed under one of the dumpsters was still there; he changed into his work uniform, stuffing his hero outfit into the bag. Blending into the crowd was easily done, and soon Frank was running. Checking his watch, he had less than ten minutes until his shift started. Even though he was the manager, he was aware that he had to maintain a standard – if he was to turn up late (superhero or not), he didn’t want to give the impression to the employees that they could do the same.

 

“Where’s the fire?” Ray chuckled as Frank dashed into the staff room. Frank stuck his tongue out at his co-worker. “So mature of you Frankie.”

 

“How late am I?”

 

“Chill man, you’re on time. Besides, I clocked you in two minutes ago anyway.”

 

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. “Toro, I could kiss you right now.”

 

Ray chuckled again. “I’ll stick with Christa, but thanks for the offer. Oh, and Nancy’s on shift today, so keep your cool, alright?”

 

The shorter man groaned. Nancy was their most recent employee at _City Records_ and everyone’s least favourite person to work with. She’d only gotten (and kept) the job, as her uncle owned the store. It made it hard to complain to Mr Kemp about his “precious niece”, when he vehemently refused to hear anything but how well she was progressing – even if she showed up smelling of weed the majority of the time. Frank was already planning various strategies on how get through the rest Nancy’s shift as he walked through the shop floor. He forced a smile onto his face as he approached the tills.

 

“Nancy, what time did you start?”

 

“Twelve.”

 

“It’s three o’clock now – ”

 

“Duh.”

 

Frank forced himself not to snap. “How about you finish an hour early today? It’s always quiet on Mondays, so I’m sure Ray, Harrison and I can manage.”

 

Nancy stared at him, chewing her bubble-gum irritatingly loud. Frank had tried telling her that she wasn’t allowed bubble-gum whilst on shift, but the brat had only wailed to Mr Kemp that Frank had been treating her unfairly in comparison to the other staff. However, Mr Kemp was reluctant to fire his manager and so had let him off with a warning.

 

“Nah, I’ll stay.”  


_Little fucker._ “Okay, no worries. I need you to go,” he looked around desperately for an excuse. Ah! A sticker gun. He grabbed it. “Go and check the sale prices are correct.”

 

Nancy sighed, snatching the gun and stalking off. As she left, Frank swiped his employee card through the till, logging himself on. To his left, Harrison was busy with several boxes of new merchandise at his feet. Harrison was slightly younger than Nancy but had worked at _City Records_ since he was sixteen. He was tall and pale, with white hair and blue eyes. Judging by the dark smudges under his eyes, Frank guessed the teen was still experimenting with eyeliner.

 

“New merch?” he asked, despite knowing the answer. Harrison was a quiet boy; shy but by no means rude. He mainly kept to himself but was a good conversationalist when prompted by certain topics.

 

“Yeah. Came today. Ray had Nancy and I scan them whilst he dealt with customers.”

 

Frank almost laughed at the thought of Nancy willing doing any work. He looked over and found her standing in the corner, texting. “I’m guessing she didn’t bother.”

 

Harrison smirked. “She was her usual. I don’t mind though. Gave me something to do.”

 

Frank smiled and opened his mouth to say something else when someone cleared their throat. He turned his head, apology at the ready when it caught in his throat. The man standing in front of him was beautiful. He had near shoulder-length scarlet hair and hazel eyes that made Frank’s knees weak. He did, however, look slightly awkward standing in front of the till.

 

“Uh, um, hi, how can I, uh, help you?” Frank asked, snapping himself out of the trance and stumbling through the phrase he’d said countless times before. The man smiled shyly. Even though he knew it was the most cliché thought he’d ever had, Frank couldn’t help but wonder whether the man was an angel.

 

“Hi, I was wondering if you sold any DVDs? I know you’re a music store but I know HMV sell movies and stuff, so I was just wondering…”

 

“DVDs… Oh! Oh, yeah, sure, they’re at the back on the right.” Frank smiled again.

 

“Thanks.” The man smiled in return, cheeks turning pink. As he turned to walk away, Frank’s eyes drifted downwards, shamefully checking out the man’s ass. Thank God for skinny jeans.

 

“Dude, you’re staring.”

 

Frank grinned at Harrison, who had a small smirk on his face. “Hey, a little look won’t hurt, ay?”

 

“That wasn’t a look; you might as well have been taking a picture.”

 

The manager playfully smacked the albino teen’s arm. The gorgeous stranger returned to the counter a few minutes later.

 

“Horror fan?” Frank asked, desperate to strike a conversation, as he scanned the DVD.

 

“Yeah, definitely.” He grinned and Frank’s heart skipped a beat. “You?”

 

“Hell yeah. Have you seen this before?” He held up the DVD. “Oh, do you need a bag, by the way?”

 

“I have but my brother hasn’t. His wife is having a baby so I thought I’d get something for them as my parents are buying a bunch of baby clothes. And nah, I’ll be okay, thanks.”

 

“That’ll be five dollars, please. Think your brother will like it?”

 

The man laughed, a light sound that brought a smile to Frank’s face. He was sure his cheeks would be hurting later but he didn’t care. “I hope so, he doesn’t have a phobia of dolls as far as I know. Here.”

 

Their fingers made contact as the cash was handed over. Frank hoped to God that his hands weren’t sweaty. He handed over the DVD as he stuck the money into the till.

 

“I don’t need a receipt, thanks. See ya around, Frank.”

 

Frank watched the stranger leave. As the door shut behind the redhead, Frank turned to Harrison.

 

“It’s on your name tag,” the boy said before Frank could ask.

 

The rest of the day passed by tragically slow. It didn’t help that they barely had any customers either, and by closing time, Frank was yearning to go home. He dove into an empty alley and tried to focus on getting home. His fists clenched as he tried, but knew it wasn’t happening. His powers were almost human; if they didn’t want to co-operate, then they wouldn’t. As he made the walk home, Frank toyed with the idea of his powers being attached to his emotions. Perhaps he was just tired from the attempted robbery and hadn’t realised it yet.

 

As he made it to the last corner, dark clouds began to sweep over the sky, bringing a light pouring of rain with them. Frank ran the last stretch to his house, key in the lock as the heavens began to downpour. He could hear his dog barking inside as he fiddled the door open.

 

“Back, back, back,” he said, ushering the small dog away from the door so he could step in. “Yes, yes, hello old girl, I’m here, I’m here.”

 

Sweet Pea yapped, jumping onto Frank’s legs even as he toed his shoes off. Her tail wagged happily as she gently scratched his jeans, trying to get his attention. Frank picked her up, squeezing his eyes shut as Sweet Pea furiously licked his face.

 

“Alright, alright Sweets, that’s enough now. Come on, let’s see if you wanna go outside for a little bit.”

 

Sweet Pea bounded outside into the small back yard, rolling in the wet grass before sniffing around. Whilst she did her business, Frank pottered around the kitchen, finding a post-it note on the fridge from Susie, saying she’d taken Sweet Pea to the park after school. He quickly texted her with the days he was working. He hated leaving Sweet Pea on her own but knew she was at least getting a good walk this way.

 

Both human and dog stayed up for another an hour, watching TV together on the two-seater couch. Frank frowned as the weather forecaster reported good weather for every city except his.

 

“Lucky us, eh Sweets?” he grumbled, switching off the TV. “C’mon, bed time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Several miles away in the countryside, a bolt of lightning struck a lone house. It shattered through the rooftop, sparking an electric surge throughout the two-storey building. The power cut out, which went unnoticed by the sleeping family of five. Snapping bolts of electricity danced as it travelled underneath the floorboards and through the wires; it took over the house as if it were a deadly force field. But the lightning was clever. It had a master that commanded respect and didn’t tolerate any traitors. The lightning liked the new master. It waited eagerly for the car to pull up outside.

 

Although neither of the men that entered the house wasn’t the master, the lightning let them in. They were controlled by the master; not allies. The master had no allies.

 

The men took the three small children from their beds, binding and gagging them so they couldn’t escape. There was warning a spark under one of the child’s bare feet as she nearly escaped; once the man had her under control, the lightning shattered a bulb just behind him. The master would know that one had nearly failed. It angered the lightning.

 

 _Let me deal with him_.

 

The master’s voice was like a new energy to the lightning. It was exciting, powerful, and deadly. Once the car sped away, it awaited the final command.

 

_Destroy._


	2. Cries in Vain

The alarm clock blared to life at seven A.M. sharp. Frank slapped the snooze button, choosing for an extra ten minutes that barely felt like ten seconds before he was being woken up again. With a groan, Frank finally switched it off. He rubbed his eyes as he swung his feet out from under the warm covers.  


“Goin’ for shower,” he mumbled to the dog on his bed.

 

The warm water eased Frank into wakefulness. He scrubbed at himself quickly; the soap and water cascaded down his tattooed form. He lifted a hand and easily guided the water to hover above his palm. Unlike teleportation, he found his ability to command air and water much easier. The elements seemed to enjoy bending to his whim, although Frank didn’t dare underestimate them. He’d learnt the hard way about how powerful nature could be and vowed to never get on her bad side. The water danced above his hand, gentle twirls that still entranced Frank, even after thirty years. However, the show was cut short when he remembered that he was paying for the water bill, not his parents.

 

Frank threw on a pair of boxers, jeans, socks and his work t-shirt, before heading downstairs, Sweet Pea not far behind. By now it was seven forty and Frank started at nine. He could sense his teleportation wouldn’t be up for the distance, but as long as he left at half eight, he’d make it in on time. He cracked some eggs into a saucepan with oil, and then threw two slices of toast into the toaster.

 

“I ain’t forgotten ‘bout you, sweetie,” he promised Sweet Pea, who sat by her bowl, eagerly awaiting her breakfast.

 

A few minutes later and Frank slumped onto his couch, quickly scarfing down his food. He tossed Sweet Pea a few pieces of crust, considering it a reward for haven eaten all her food. He channel-hopped before selecting the news, hoping nothing had happened that would require his help. As much as he enjoyed protecting his city, sometimes it was tricky to balance it with work.

 

_“… is here with our top story. Neil?”_

_“Thanks, Melissa. Last night a small home was set ablaze during the late hours...”_

Frank watched as the screen showed fire fighters outside a house, which had been burnt to the ground – literally. He was surprised the garden fence was left almost untouched, with the exception of some blackened stains. Frank had seen house fires – when he was a child, a woman down the street had caught her husband having an affair. From what his parents had told his six year-old self, the woman had locked her, the husband, and the other woman, in the house and all three burned in it. The devastation was implanted into his mind’s eye.

 

What he was seeing onscreen, wasn’t a house fire – nor whatever excuses the reporters were trying to convince their viewers.

 

_“… Fire investigators are trying to find the missing bodies of three children, but so far have not been able to. Police are appealing for any witnesses or anyone who may know, to come forward.”_

It wasn’t an arson attack. Frank knew that whoever had caused this could control fire. He’d only encountered a fire-controller once, and Jesus, did that guy have a temper.

 

Sweet Pea whined softly, sensing tension from her owner. Frank rubbed her head.

 

“I’m fine, Sweets,” he said softly. He let her out to do her business and sniff, as he sorted his dishes, then bid her farewell before leaving for work.

 

He could barely get the news story out of his mind; it seemed to be everywhere he looked, his attention grabbed by the headlines of various newspapers. He shook his head, trying to clear it out of his mind. Suddenly, several gunshots echoed. Everyone instinctively ducked, several screaming as many grabbed their children or partners. Frank’s head twisted in every direction, his brown eyes scanning for the shooter.

 

“Up there!” Someone shouted.

 

The crowd’s attention turned to the towering buildings above them. Frank was the first to notice: a lone man standing on the edge of an eighty-floor office building. Except he wasn’t alone. On his left stood two smaller people, one on his right. Frank’s mouth went dry. They were children. His mind quickly pieced it all together; three missing bodies from a house destruction last night, and now three children on the roof. It was the only explanation he could think of.

 

Leaving the bystanders to watch in growing panic, Frank turned tail and ran. He’d long since stopped caring about clichés – alleyways were definitely his preferred option to change without being noticed. Snapping the black mask on last, Frank checked for any wandering eyes before focusing on his power and becoming The Rapid Storm. Many people believed he could fly, but all that was really needed was the helping hand of the wind.

 

“It’s him!” a voice shouted from below as Rapid sailed above them, seemingly out of nowhere.

 

“Ah, Rapid Storm.” The man on the building smirked as the hero landed on the roof of the building. “I was wondering when you’d show your face.”

 

“I’ll give you one chance. Let the children go and hand yourself to the cops.”

 

The man laughed. He jumped off the ledge, landing with a thud on the roof. One of the three children glanced at Rapid with hope and fear in his eyes. With a subtle curling of his fingers, Rapid directed a gentle breeze towards the small hostages to avoid them being blown into the sky. He kept his eyes focused on the advancing man so as to not give away his actions.

 

“You really are as pathetic as they make you look, aren’t you?” the man sneered, his long trench coat flapping around his ankles as he walked. He was much taller than Rapid, with very light blue hair and white eyes. The man had no irises; he looked possessed. Rapid forced himself to not react as a crackle of lightning suddenly shot across the darkened sky.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The pale man laughed again – and lunged. Rapid ducked and rolled to his left, quickly jumping to his feet. On a building this high, and with the hostages already at risk of just the slightest breeze, there was no chance Rapid’s powers would come in useful now. He crouched as a foot came swinging at his face; with a quick swipe, he knocked the other off his feet. Rapid aimed a fist at the man’s face, hitting solid ground as he rolled away in time.

“You’re slower than I thought, little Storm.”

 

_Ignore him; he’s trying to distract you._

The two circled each other like a pack of wolves until the stranger launched himself at the hero. Rapid grabbed the fist nearing his face, sharply twisting the wrist until the man roared in pain. He kicked the man’s feet from underneath him and planted a knee onto his chest to prevent him from moving. The man panted heavily underneath him.

 

“Who are you?” Rapid asked again. The man cackled, his eyes briefly flashing icy blue as they glanced to the sky.

 

Rapid watched as the clouds rumbled, knowing that this man had to be controlling them. He thought of possibilities to what this man’s power could be; there was no way he could control every aspect of the weather. He dug his knee a little deeper into the other’s sternum until he heard a hiss. Sparks shot through the clouds in a zigzag pattern, as if in response to the man’s pain.

 

“You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Storm-boy,” the man spat between heavy breaths. “Let me show you mine.”

 

The man’s gloved hand shot into the air, as if to grab hold of something above him. Without hesitation, a streak of lightning danced over the two; Rapid followed it with his eyes, tracking its movements. He didn’t even realise where it was headed, what it was about to do, until it was too late.

 

Like a crooked finger, the lightning tapped its point on the head of one of the children.

 

“NO!” Rapid shouted as he watched the child being electrocuted in the most painful way.

 

The boy’s siblings screamed as they watched their brother’s body spasm uncontrollably. Time seemed to slow briefly as the lightning retreated back to the sky and the body slipped off the ledge. Rapid shot his hand out, not sure whether he was trying to summon the wind, or grab the boy before he disappeared. Either way, he was too slow. His heart weighted heavily in his chest.

 

Rapid was brought back to the present when he was suddenly shoved onto his back. He leapt to his feet the same time as his foe pulled a handgun from inside his trench coat.

 

“Now you see the true nature of who I am.”

 

“They’re just children!” Rapid shouted, fists clenching. “He was just a boy!”

 

“They are pathetic beings!” The man shouted back. His voice took on a peculiar sound; almost an echo. “They are beneath us! Look at us; our gifts. We were made to be gods and be worshipped.”

 

“You’re sick.”

 

He shrugged, raising the gun to point at Rapid as he walked backwards. “You will join me.”

 

“Never.”

 

Rapid began sprinting forwards, aiming to push the other off the ledge. The man pulled the trigger, firing two quick shots. Rapid dodged the first, but the second caught his upper arm. He instinctively glanced down at his wound for a few seconds; however, it was long enough for his enemy to grab one of the remaining children’s arm and jump over the ledge, dragging the little girl with him. The last child wailed as he watched the last member of his family fall to her death. Rapid froze in horror as he peered over.

 

There was a moment where he had no idea what to do. Never before had he dealt with a kidnapping maniac who killed himself and two children in the process. Rapid’s knees shook slightly as he tensed his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering. Goosebumps travelled up his arms.

 

A fearful sob made him remember about the third sibling. Rapid forced his gaze from the ground and to the young boy with tears streaming down his face.

 

“Hey,” he said thickly. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hey. You know who I am?”

 

He nodded. “Y-You’re Rapid S-S-Storm.”

 

The hero nodded, hopping gracefully onto the edge. The wind eagerly held onto him.

 

“I’m gonna get you down, okay?”

 

“M-M-My b-b-brother,” he stammered. “Ah-and my s-s-sister… the-they…”

 

“I know,” Rapid tried to reassure. His gloved fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist. He looked at him, green eyes shining with tears yet to fall. “We’re gonna get off this roof, okay? You’re gonna be safe now. I promise. What’s your name?”

 

“M-M-Miles.”

 

Rapid smiled warmly. He carefully lifted her into his arms, encouraging her to hold onto him. He’d never flown with someone in his arms before, but Miles was light enough that he was easy to carry.

 

“Close your eyes, kid,” Rapid whispered. A strange feeling of warmth spread through him when Miles buried his face into his saviour’s chest. He felt relieved that the boy trusted him, especially after watching his siblings die, and oddly protective of him too. No doubt he would be placed into foster care immediately unless a relative took him in.

 

The decent back down to earth was smooth and silent. Rapid landed next to one of the squad cars that had arrived. He didn’t want Miles to see his sister’s remains on the pavement (thankfully, police were already cordoning the area, moving the public away), but neither did he want anyone to see Miles’ face. The poor boy didn’t deserve any harassment from strangers.

 

Luckily the officers knew about the situation and didn’t need to ask any questions.

 

“We can take it from here. He’s in good hands now,” one of the officers said, extending his arms to take Miles.

 

“N-No!”

 

Rapid gave the police his best apologetic look; even though he was secretly a little glad that Miles was clinging onto his shirt. He felt like clinging onto the kid himself. His heart hurt at the thought of not being able to see him again after today.

 

“I’ll take care of him. Until a social worker gets here,” Rapid added quickly. The officers shrugged and allowed him to sit in the back of one of the cars for privacy.

 

“Y-You’re gonna l-leave m-m-me?”

 

Rapid had managed to convince Miles to sit next to him, rather than on him. He sighed, unsure of what to say without hurting the child further.

 

“I have to. They won’t let you stay with me.”

 

“W-W-Wh-Why?”

 

“Because you’ve got to go stay with your family. Don’t you have any aunts or uncles, or –?”

 

“The-They i-i-is ah-all d-dead.”

 

“Oh. Well. Then someone very, very nice is gonna adopt you and you’ll have a new family with, uh, a dog.”

 

“I like d-dogs.” Miles smiled. He was no longer crying but Rapid wasn’t sure how he’d cope when it was time for both to part ways. He could already see a social worker talking to a policeman in the corner of his eye. “W-W-Wh-Why c-c-ca-can’t I-I s-s-st-stay w-w-with y-you, Ruh-Rapid?”

 

“Hey, I’ll tell you a secret, yeah?” He whispered. Miles nodded eagerly. “My name’s not Rapid Storm. It’s Frank.”

 

Miles’ eyes widened in awe at the information he’d been given. Rapid pressed a finger to his lips and winked, before dematerialising.

 

Frank gasped as he appeared by the dumpster. A wave of sadness and grief threatened to overcome him but he quickly pushed it down to focus on changing his clothes. He exited the opposite end to how he entered, yanking his phone out and dialling work. It was Ray who answered and thankfully knew not to push Frank for answers, despite knowing he was lying about having a family emergency.

 

Frank had no idea whether he’d teleported to his front door, or if time had blurred by him; the next thing he was aware of was collapsing onto his couch and gently cuddling Sweet Pea as he finally allowed himself to cry.


	3. Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, hey, sorry for the late posting! you can blame january exams for that haha. btw, thank you all for your comments and kudos, let me know what you think of this chapter!

The next day, Frank was in an irritable mood. He’d slept on the couch the night before, leaving him with an awful kink in his back. He’d also somehow managed to oversleep, despite continuously waking various times in the night. Now, as he scanned customer’s items and took their money, he was still having difficulty getting the stuttering dark haired boy out of his head. If he stamped the ‘half price!’ stickers onto the CDs a little too hard, no one said anything.

“Hey Frank.”

The short man startled at the unfamiliar voice. It was the red haired man with the wonderful ass. He grinned at Frank’s reaction.

“Oh! Um, er, hi. What can I, um, do for you?”

“I was, um, looking for you, actually.” A rosy pink blush spread across the man’s cheeks at the confession, as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was Frank’s turn to grin now.

“Oh, really?” He said with a flirtatious hint to his tone. “And is there anything in particular that I can do for _you_?”

“Gerard,” the still-blushing man blurted out. His cheeks reddened even further and he avoided Frank’s gaze, staring at the ground instead. “M’name’s Gerard.”

“Gerard, hmm?” Frank positively purred. He enjoyed the man’s reaction to his words; his body language didn’t suggest that he was uncomfortable – judging by the sly way Gerard bit his lip. However, he knew he’d have to be careful; he barely knew this man and didn’t want to accidently tread over a line.

“Yes, si- I’m, um, yes. That’s my name.” Gerard moved his hands behind his back, no doubt playing with his fingers out of embarrassment, but Frank couldn’t stop the image of Gerard on his knees, hands tied behind his back. The near slip didn’t help Frank’s imagination from running wild either.

“FRANK!” Nancy’s screech echoed from the front of the store.

“Damn it,” Frank muttered under his breath. Whilst the employees were more than used to Nancy’s frequent shrieking, many of the customers, including Gerard, jumped half a mile into the air.

“Shall I come back…?” Gerard trailed off uncertainly.

“No.” Frank said firmly, his fingers ghosting over Gerard’s wrist. “Stay here. I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, Frank stalked over to his least favourite co-worker. It took all of his patience to not hiss at the girl and the customer she was serving. After haven solved the problem, he grumbled a “should be fine now” before quickly leaving. To his surprise, and pleasure, Gerard was still standing in the exact same spot as where Frank had left him.

“Still here?” Frank said, loud enough for only the two of them to hear. Daringly, he added in a near whisper, “Good boy.”

Thrill shot up and down his spine, sending goosebumps through him when Gerard glanced at him through strands of hair, tongue poking out slightly to wet his lips. A slightly elderly lady unknowingly interrupted them as she passed by for the classical section. Gerard coughed slightly.

“Do you have any Bowie CDs?”

Frank blinked, mind momentarily blank for several seconds, before he caught up. “Yeah, sure, I’ll show you.”

“Thanks,” Gerard said quietly afterwards. After a short search, he picked up one of the CDs. “I’ve managed to get my daughter into Bowie and thought I’d buy the only album I don’t actually have to surprise her.”

Frank managed a hollow chuckle. Daughter. Gerard had a daughter. He groaned internally. Nope, he wasn’t playing side chick for anyone, regardless of how hot they were. Time to end it before it hurt anymore than it did.

“Uh, Gerard. I –”

“I’m single.”

Frank blinked. Gerard was blushing at his outburst again. “What.”

“I know I said I have a daughter,” the man began, his hands moving in the air as he babbled slightly. “But Lindsey and I broke up years ago. We didn’t fight or anything like that, it was perfectly amicable, we both agreed it was for the best even though –”

“Gerard.” Frank’s smooth, yet a touch sharp, voice broke through.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

They walked back to the till, talking quietly to each other. Thankfully, there wasn’t a line of customers and Frank could sign into the other till to serve his customer. Nancy didn’t look up from her phone screen.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” Frank said as he placed the album into a bag. He wordlessly swiped his card, giving Gerard some discount off his purchase.  
He placed the receipt and change into Gerard’s outstretched palm. Without a word, Gerard grabbed one of the pens lying on the till and began scribbling on the back of the receipt.

“See ya,” he winked as he walked away.

Frank grabbed the receipt. On it was a series of numbers with _call me xo – gerard way_ underneath it.

_Holy shit. I got his number!_

However, later that evening, Frank still hadn’t called him. Although he’d saved Gerard’s number into his phone, the receipt sat heavily in his back pocket. He looked at Sweet Pea, who looked back at him, eyes wondering why he’d stopped rubbing her belly.

“Think I should call him, Sweets?” he asked, despite knowing the answer himself. Damn his nerves! He liked the guy for Christ’s sake, what was he holding back for?

Sweet Pea gave a small wag of her tail.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

The tone rang three times before a whispered, _“hello?”_ answered. Frank forced himself to let go of the breath he’d been holding.

“Hi, it’s me. Frank. From the shop. The music shop.” Jesus, now wasn’t the time to make an idiot of himself.

_“Oh! Hey Frank. I was hoping you’d call.”_

“Yeah, sorry, I had to um, walk my dog.” Well, it wasn’t a complete lie.

_“Oh, sorry, I just assumed that I’d made a move too quickly.”_

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m glad you gave me your number.” There was a brief pause. “So, did your daughter like the CD?”


	4. Eight Crazy Hours (In the Story of Love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff chapter. non-beta'd (like this entire story) so any mistakes are mine. please feel free to give any constructive criticism or even just what you liked i suppose. there's a minor hint to what's coming up in the story, see if you can spot it!
> 
> warning: bad puns about ducks.

Frank anxiously chewed the nail on his thumb. He checked the clock on his dashboard and mentally berated himself. _Four minutes left,_ he reasoned. _Can’t say he’s late yet, there’s still four more minutes._ After a month of texting, planning, then unexpectedly rescheduling (mostly because of Frank, who may or may not have punched a few criminals a little harder out of frustration as a result), he and Gerard were finally going on their first date. They’d chosen a nice little park to meet, since it would be a warm summer day and also something different from the usual dinner-and-a-movie first date. He’d briefly thought about bringing Sweet Pea, but decided against it; it would be the world’s worst first date if either Gerard or his daughter were terrified or allergic to dogs.

 

“What if they are?” Frank whispered to himself, fingers freezing over his phone screen. A hesitant tap on the window broke his trail of thought. Frank jumped, dropping his phone onto his lap in the process. It was Gerard.

 

“Sorry,” Gerard said, cheeks dusted with pink in embarrassment. Frank waved him off as he got out of the car.

 

“Nah, don’t worry about it, I didn’t see you pull up.”

 

Gerard shot him a grin. “Thanks for suggesting Bandit come with us. I know it’s not something people normally do on first dates, I just a lot of trouble finding a babysitter, Lindsey’s got a doctor’s appointment and my brother –”

 

“Hey, relax man, it’s totally cool. I get it with the whole babysitter thing.”

 

“Oh. You have a kid too?” Gerard asked, sounding surprised as he turned to the small car parked beside Frank’s.

 

“Well, a dog, but she’s my baby.”

 

Gerard laughed; it was a sound that made Frank want to crack the worst of jokes just so he could hear that laughter again. He watched Gerard reach into the backseat of his car, unclipping his daughter from her booster seat. His eyes briefly flickered down to his date’s ass before snapping back up. A small girl with soft brown hair emerged from the car in Gerard’s arms. She stared at Frank with big hazel eyes, her small hand tightly gripping the collar of Gerard’s shirt.

 

“B, this is Frank. He helped me find that Bowie album,” Gerard introduced. “Frank, this is my daughter, Bandit.”

 

Frank smiled, holding out a hand to the little girl. “Very nice to meet you, Bandit.”

 

“Hello, Fwank,” Bandit said, taking Frank’s larger hand. Gerard beamed, kissing her soft cheek.

 

“C’mon, B, let’s go see the ducks!”

 

The three walked along the path, Frank and Gerard chatting as they made their way to the pond.

 

“Normally I’d bring bread or something, but my brother’s wife said it’s bad for the ducks.” Gerard shrugged, one eye on Bandit as she sat on the grass, quietly watching the ducks swimming as she sucked on a lollipop. “But what else do you give a duck?”

 

“After its finished eating? Usually a bill.”

 

Gerard stared at Frank for a few seconds before snorting. “That was awful Frank, I can’t believe you made me hear that. With my own ears as well.”

 

Frank grinned. “You must think I’m quackers.”

 

Gerard laughed, throwing his head back. On the pond, a duck squawked. “He certainly does!”

 

Their laughter paused as Bandit tugged on Frank’s jeans. Frank bent down to one knee, leaning to the side slightly so the little girl could whisper into his ear.

 

“Mommy said you should get flowers on a first date,” the four year old said. Hearing her words made Frank chuckle softly as she pushed a small bunch of handpicked daisies into his hand. Bandit gave his arm a little push.

 

“Uh, Gerard?”

 

“Hmm?”  


Frank held out the daisies to his date. “I didn’t get you any flowers for our first date like I should have, but luckily, Bandit reminded me.”

 

Gerard blushed as scarlet as his hair, which he ran a hand through. He gently took the daisies, blush deepening as their fingers brushed. “Thank you.”

 

“Should I be expecting a ‘don’t break his heart speech’?” Frank grinned, giving Gerard a playful nudge with his shoulder. They watched as Bandit began picking more flowers.

 

After a while, the trio made their way across the park to a small ice cream parlour. The parlour was a welcome shade from the heat of the afternoon sun. Frank watched with a grin as Gerard spent most of his time wiping Bandit’s mouth and warning her of the dripping dessert, than on his own ice cream cone. The dark haired man stifled a laugh behind his hand as Gerard realised his ice cream was now over his own fingers.

 

“Dammit,” Gerard muttered as he licked the strawberry ice cream off his fingers. Frank glanced away quickly, filing an R-rated version of the scene into the back of his mind.

 

“So, uh, how’s the commission coming along?” Frank asked. Since their first phone call, Gerard had received a new order for a rather large piece of artwork. The artist pulled a face.

 

“Difficult. The guy wants so much detail and it’s a really big scene too. I think it’s for his kid or something ‘cause it’s got a superhero on top of a building with lightning bolts across the sky and stuff. I mean, it’s a pretty cool design and took ages to sketch out, but it’s getting everything he wants onto this piece of window he gave me,” Gerard explained, free hand waving in the air as he talked. “Sometimes it’s just finding the time to actually do it, you know, between procrastination, doing other, smaller, projects, and trying to have a social life whilst Lady B here is running around.”

 

“What about Lindsey?”

 

“She’s not been well for a while now, hence doctor’s appointment, so I’ve had Bandit. I don’t mind, obviously; the school run is a bit of a pain in the butt though.”

 

“And Ashleigh’s mom,” Bandit added nonchalantly, munching on the sugar cone.

 

“Yep, and her,” Gerard said quickly. Frank gave him a quizzical look. “One of the PTA moms. Gives the single dad a lasagne every afternoon. I’d laugh if it weren’t so embarrassing and cliché.”

 

“Looks like I’ve got some competition, huh?” Frank joked.

 

“We’ve got enough lasagnes and casseroles to last the apocalypse.”

 

“What, no brownies?”

 

“Ashleigh’s mom punched Lucy’s mom, ‘cause Lucy’s mom made brownies.”

 

Gerard groaned at Bandit’s input, whilst Frank burst into laughter. “B, you’re not supposed to tell people that.” He turned to Frank apologetically. “This is why I don’t go to school fairs anymore.”

 

“Dude, you have to tell me that story one day.”

 

Once they’d finished their ice creams, they walked back through the park to their cars.

 

“Thanks for today. I had a really good time,” Gerard said once he had Bandit buckled into her car seat.

 

“No problem. Me too. I’d uh, I’d like to see you again, if that’s alright?”

 

Gerard nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’d like that. Hopefully I’ll be able to get someone to watch Bandit so we can go out together next time.”

 

“Sure. I’ll text you and we can work something out.”

 

They bid each other goodbye, driving in the opposite directions. Later that evening, as he sat in front of the TV, haven walked and fed Sweet Pea, Frank realised he’d barely felt nor used his powers the entire day.

 

_Maybe that’s how it feels to be a normal person._


	5. Freak Like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw- alcohol and violence

The shot glasses clacked as they were practically slammed onto the bar. The next two were quickly thrown back, before receiving the same treatment. Frank laughed as he held the third shot to his lips, watching Ray’s face scrunch up at the sour apple taste.

 

“Why do you drink this shit Frank?” Ray grimaced as he picked up his third. “Why can’t you drink something cool, like bloody tequila, instead of this? Teenagers drink this.”

 

Frank resisted the urge to spit out the sour mango shot in laughter. “C’mon Ray, lighten up! This stuff’s cheaper than tequila, plus it’s more fun.”

 

Ray snorted. “We’re here to have fun anyway; not drink UV.”

 

“Well, if you’re not gonna finish your line…”

 

Ray smacked Frank’s wondering hand. “Hey, these are mine, I paid for them!”

 

“Then hurry up and down ‘em before I do.”

 

After Ray had finished his last three, they ordered a drink each, along with a Fireball shot. As Frank dropped his glass onto the bar, a small crowd of people jostled by, forcing him against the bar to let them pass. The bartender swiped his and Ray’s empty glasses, eying Frank with a weird look. He quickly disappeared as Ray dragged Frank from the bar with a “dude, c’mon, the band is about to start.” By this point, there was practically no room to breathe with how packed it was in the dive bar. Ray kept a firm grip on Frank’s arm as he managed to weave them through the mixed crowd of teenagers and adults, until they were two rows from the stage. Normally Ray would get them right to the front, knowing how much Frank bitched about needing to be right by the stage to see, but Frank knew that this was Ray’s small revenge for the sour shots. Still, at least he could join a pit more easily now.

 

The band was a local trio that Frank had never heard of, but the guitars were fast, the drums loud, and the singer was screaming like her life depended on it. Their music spurred the crowd immensely; the singer cackled into her microphone as, halfway through, three bouncers entered a pit to break up what had started as a friendly fight until one got his nose broken and became angry.

 

“Fuck me, that was manic,” Frank panted as they slumped against the bar. Ray grinned, fro bouncing.

 

“Yeah? Dude, did you see the singer?”

 

“Man, she was fucking insane,” Frank chuckled. “I swear, you had heart eyes for her; sure Christa ain’t gonna be jealous of your little crush?”

 

Ray smirked. “That _was_ Christa, dumbass.”

 

Frank stared with his mouth open in shock as said singer came bounding over into Ray’s arms. The couple kissed, Ray’s arm winding around Christa’s waist.

 

“Hey babe. Oh, this is Frank, he’s a friend from work.”

 

Frank, still in slight shock, shook Christa’s hand. “Fuckin’ hell Ray, you never said your girlfriend was in a fucking band!”

 

Christa laughed, slightly hoarse from the screaming she’d been doing. “He likes to think he’s a dark horse, Ray does. C’mon, lets get a drink, I’m gasping.”

 

As Ray got his and Christa’s order, Christa turned to Frank. “Hey, there’s a bartender behind me making a cocktail; see him?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Do you know him?”

 

“Uh, no, how come?”

 

“’Cause he’s been giving you funny looks.”

 

Frank raised an eyebrow. He glanced at the bartender again; it was the same man who’d looked at him strangely when they’d ordered shots earlier on. “How long for?”

 

Christa shrugged. “Noticed as I was walking up to you both.” Her attention turned to Ray, as he handed her a drink. At the same time, Frank’s phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Gerard.

 

_How was the band? X_

As Frank was typing back a reply, he noticed a reflection loom over his screen. Quickly locking his phone, he glanced up – and saw the same creepy bartender staring at him.

 

“Anything I can get you, sir?” the man asked in an odd, strangled tone. He almost looked terrified of Frank.

 

Frank frowned; the guy flinched minutely. _Jesus, what’s this guy’s problem?_ “Nah, I’m good, I was just about to go out for a smoke.”

 

The man nodded, a short and jerky movement of his head, before walking away. Hopefully to serve someone else. Frank clapped Ray on the shoulder.

 

“Going out for a breather, mate,” he said before disappearing in the crowd.

 

The air outside was practically freezing in comparison to the hot and sweaty air inside. Frank hid behind a dumpster, peeking around every few seconds until the back door finally opened, revealing the jumpy man from behind the bar. Frank smirked, watching as he glanced up and down the short alley, undoubtedly looking for him. He waited until the other sighed before turned around to head back in. The distance was short enough for him to easily teleport without too much suspicion – after all, the guy hadn’t checked the alley’s every nook and cranny. There was a choked curse as Frank grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him away from the door and against the wall.

 

“P-Please don’t hurt me!” he whimpered, hands up against the wall in surrender.

 

“You were looking at me,” Frank growled, glad he was scaring the guy. Staring and behind weird was one thing, but actively following him? Nah, he wasn’t about to risk this guy following him home. “And now you’re following me, huh? What gives?”

 

“I, I have a message!”

 

“From who?”

 

“He calls himself The Crackling.”

 

Frank snorted. “This some kind of fucking joke?” He pushed the other’s face harder against the bricks.

 

“I swear it’s the truth, please, let me explain!”

 

“You have thirty seconds.” The man gulped. “Now.”

 

“Okay, okay; this guy, The Crackling, he’s like some kind of super villain – ”

 

“Twenty seconds.”

 

“Fuck man, give me a chance, I’m not bullshitting you, I swear. He has these powers, like he can do shit with like lightning and stuff.”

 

“Why should I care? You think I’m a fucking superhero or something?”

 

“I don’t know man, I’m just a messenger, okay? The Crackling though, he really wants to meet you. Join forces or something, like, I dunno, Batman and Robin or whatever.”

 

“This is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

 

“It’s true, I fucking swear it! He gave me an address, it’s in my pocket, here.” The man frantically fished out a folded piece of paper. Frank snatched it. “He wants you to meet him there. Please, man, say you’ll go, yeah? Please!”

 

Frank rolled his eyes. He threw the man away from the wall, not bothering to catch him as he landed on the ground. “Listen, you and your fucking freak friends just stay away from me, yeah? I don’t want any of your fucking bullshit and if I see you again, I’ll report you to the police.”

 

The man scrambled to his knees. “No, no, no, you don’t understand, you _have_ to say yes, please, I’m begging you –”

 

Frank sighed; he was starting to get really tired of this. “You’re fucking crazy. Look.” He dug out the paper and began ripping it to shreds. “See? That’s how much I care ab–”

 

“No! No, no, fuck, no, you can’t, he’ll fucking kill me.”

 

“C’mon, this is bullshit–”

 

A terribly loud thunder cut across Frank’s dismissive words. The man in front of him shrieked in fear, tears rolling down his face. Frank was paralyzed as he began to wonder if the man had actually been telling the truth. _Nah, it’s just a coincidence._ But a little voice in his head disagreed; making him wonder if he’d accidentally signed the man’s death sentence. Lightning zigzagged across the sky from afar, leaping from cloud to cloud towards them.

 

“It’s just the weather,” Frank said, unsure if he was trying to reassure the frightened man or himself.

 

“Please give me another chance!” The man screamed at the sky, voice cracking.

 

The lightning died down, dark clouds rolling away, as if they had listened and granted his request. Frank watched in shock at the sky above and then at the man, who began smiling.

 

“See?” He said, getting to his feet. “He does ex–”

 

A clap of lightning burst from above, striking the man’s head. There was a second of a scream before the man disintegrated before Frank’s eyes. Once the lightning bolt had receded upwards, Frank dashed out of the alley. He teleported to a nearby park, where he vomited into a bush. After he’d finished, he quickly texted Ray, saying he’d felt sick and made his way home. After that, he teleported to the nearest empty park, and so forth until he made it home.

 

Sweet Pea climbed onto his lap as her owner slumped onto the couch. The man’s screams echoed in Frank’s mind as he mentally relayed the entire scene over and over again.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Frank muttered, as the shock finally came over him, and his eyes rolled back into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy, sorry for the wait, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it. thank u for the kudos while i've been gone! i'm hoping the next one will be sooner rather than later, but i've got some exams in may so if need be, chapter 6 will probably be in june, but we'll see. happy easter (or your equivalent)!


	6. God Hates Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha suckers, here's another chapter. Plus it's a huge one (oi oi).

Frank pressed his knee into the thief’s lower back – just as his phone began to ring. Holding one of her arms behind her back, he fished out his mobile. It was Gerard. Making sure the thief was securely pinned down, he answered the call.

 

“Hello?”

 

_“Hi Frank! I was just calling to make sure you’re still okay to come round tomorrow?”_

“Uhh.” Frank scrolled through his mental calendar. Tomorrow was May the 27th. Shit – Bandit’s birthday. “Yeah, yeah, I can make it. What time d’you want me over?”

 

_“Great! Um, anytime is fine, Bandit’s got some friends coming over and –”_

At that point, the thief decided to scream. “Help! Help, somebody help me!”

 

_“Frank? What’s going on?”_

_For fuck’s sake_ , Frank thought as he leant forward, smacking his elbow against the woman’s face. “I think there’s a mugging going on or something. I’ll call you back.”

 

_“Are you OK? Do you want me to call the cops?”_

“Nah, I’ll do it now babe, don’t worry. I’ll call you when I get home.”

 

_“OK then, make sure you get home safe.”_

“Will do, bye!” Frank hung up, pocketed his phone, and turned his attention back to his problem maker. “Seriously?”

 

“Worth a shot,” the woman said through gritted teeth as she bucked against him. “Now if you don’t mind.”

 

Suddenly, Frank dropped to the ground, landing through where the woman should have been. He cursed, jumping to his feet as he scanned the area, which was now completely deserted except for him. A fist slammed into his stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. His legs were kicked from underneath him and, as he landed on his ass, another fist knocked against his jaw. Frank’s hands scraped against the concrete as they attempted to stabilise him, when his hair was grabbed, yanking his head back and then against the ground with enough force to break his nose. All of this happened in less than a minute. Frank’s vision swam as he tried getting up.

 

“Nu-uh, sugar,” the thief tutted. He felt her boot on his back, holding him down. “Ooh, this looks a lil’ familiar.”

 

“Fucking bitch,” Frank snarled, spitting out blood that’d dribbled into his mouth from his nose. With a blind swing of his arm, he managed to hit the back of her knee. Looking around again, he couldn’t see her. “You fuckin’ invisible or some shit?”

 

He heard her laugh before feeling her kick his ribs. Again, he fell to the floor, wherein she began kicking his stomach. After the third kick however, Frank grabbed her foot, twisting until he heard a pop. The woman’s foot materialised in his hands, the rest of her body gradually appearing above him. Frank yanked her boot back, pulling her to the ground. Her face hit the ground and she lay still, unconscious. Frank bound her hands and feet, propped her against the wall and called in a quick tip to the police before teleporting to where he’d left his rucksack of clothes.

 

“Fucking invisibility,” Frank grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

 

“Impressive,” a voice interrupted. Frank’s head shot up, fists coming up to defend himself. The speaker was a man standing by the very dumpster hiding Frank’s backpack. “Relax, I mean you no harm.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

The man grinned, leaping off the dumpster. “My apologies, we haven’t been formally introduced, although I believe you have met an… employee of mine.” He held out a gloved hand for Frank to shake. “I am the Crackling.”

 

Frank didn’t move. The Crackling’s smile didn’t fade as he eventually lowered his hand. His silver eyes bored into Frank’s green ones, making the shorter man feel somewhat exposed, as if the Crackling was staring into his soul. The night time clouds rumbled gently.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“So many questions,” the Crackling teased, still smiling. It was setting Frank on edge – was this the man who’d electrocuted another man to combustion, only a few nights ago, as he knelt and begged for a second chance? As far as Frank knew, that particular investigation was on going but with no leads whatsoever, there was a very small chance that the Crackling would be imprisoned for the murder.

 

“Then answer them, instead of pissing about.”

 

There was a slight flash in the Crackling’s silver eyes, the smile wavering briefly. “Of course, you’re absolutely right. I thought, instead of sending another useless messenger, I would extend my invitation in person. I want you to join me.”

 

“Join you?”

 

“Yes. I think we would make a formidable team.”

 

“What?”

 

“And I assure you that I respect your desire for privacy Iero, but with you by my side, there will be no such need for a thing. The world will know our names and worship us at our feet.” The Crackling’s smile became strained as if he were trying to contain his glee at the vision in his head.

 

Frank’s head, meanwhile, was spinning. “I don’t understand… I…”

 

The Crackling laughed. “Come now Frank – may I call you Frank? –, a man with all the technology I could want at my disposal, I would be able to tell you Batman’s secret cave if I so wanted. However, I will admit that with your little teleporting trick, you didn’t make it easy. That and your fighting skills made me realise that you would be a worthy partner.”

 

“Glorified fucking sidekick,” Frank sneered without thinking. There was a white flash across the sky, lasting mere seconds. “Why the hell should I join you anyway? I’m guessing you’re the guy that blew up the bartender?”

 

“Simpering, pathetic piece of waste,” the Crackling hissed. “Ask them to complete one small task, and all they can do is fuck it up. They’re worthless creatures, Frank, weaklings the whole lot of them. We’re better than them; they belong at our feet, below us.”

 

As the Crackling became angrier, eyes never leaving Frank for a second, the sky above seemed to react to the Crackling’s emotions. Frank didn’t look up but the deafening rumble was enough to tell him that this guy probably had some control over the sky, maybe even the weather as well as lightning. Taking a large step forward, the Crackling moved to within inches of Frank. Glaring defiantly at the other, Frank entertained the thought of commanding the air to lift him until they were both eyelevel.

 

“Join me. Let’s put the world to rights. Help our fellow extraordinary brothers and sisters to harness their gifts, and show them they have nothing to fear.”

 

“At the cost of worldwide human slavery,” Frank finished scathingly. The Crackling raised his eyebrows.

 

“It is where they belong, Frank. It is their natural place.”

 

Images of Gerard as a slave, beaten and broken, trying to protect Bandit made Frank’s stomach turn. “Go fuck yourself.”

 

The resulting thunderous boom would have made Frank flinch if he wasn’t expecting a reaction. The Crackling’s expression was equally thunderous.

 

“Take my offer, Frank. Take the opportunity. Or live to regret it in our new utopia.”

 

Frank closed the gap between them. “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

 

Without waiting around to see what would happen, Frank teleported to his bag, and then the multiple times to various parks on his route home. The sky was black as lightning lashed down. Sweet Pea leapt into Frank’s arms the minute she saw him, tail cowering between her legs as she whimpered. Frank closed all the curtains in the house and held her as much as he could whilst changing out of his uniform. His torso was amass of bruises but thankfully, nothing was broken (although he would have a joining bruise on his jaw in the morning). Sweet Pea cried, nosing at her owner’s neck, at another lightning snap.

 

“You can sleep on the covers tonight, don’t worry,” Frank murmured.

 

The lightning kept them both awake through the night, not stopping until the sun rose at six am. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get some sleep now the sun was up, Frank decided his only option was to get up and start preparing for the day. He caught the bus at ten am into the city to buy a present for Bandit.

 

_Just a regular day,_ he thought to himself, trying to quell the anxiety in the pit of his stomach. The Crackling hadn’t been wearing a mask last night and Frank expected to see him in every passer-by. The cashier gave him a wary look in the toy store, briefly making Frank panic that he’d left his mask on. Confirming he hadn’t with a subtle eye rub, Frank quickly left the store with his purchase.

 

When he arrived at Gerard’s two hours later, the panic returned when Gerard stumbled over his greeting, eyes wide at Frank’s appearance.

 

“What happened to your jaw?” Gerard whispered, hand shakily reaching forward to cup Frank’s face.

 

_Ah. Shit._ “Tripped coming out of the shower,” Frank said quickly. “Didn’t put a floor mat down. Slipped.” He held up the wrapped box in his arms. “I got Bandit something, is that alright?”

 

“Oh! Of course, sorry, come in Frank.” Gerard ushered him inside. “Bare with me two seconds.” Frank waited awkwardly as Gerard dashed upstairs, before returning with a small tube of concealer. After less than a minute, the bruise was neatly covered.

 

“Thanks,” Frank smiled, pecking Gerard’s lips. “Right, where’s the birthday girl?”

 

The party was small, mainly consisting of Bandit playing various games with her friends. Gerard, Frank, and a few other parents remained inside, chatting amongst each other. Bandit had squealed at her presents and given Frank a hug when she’d opened his gift. Then there was cake and soon, it was time for Bandit’s friends to leave, despite many protests and tears. As Frank was helping to clear up, there was a knock on the door.

 

“Bandit, your mom’s here!” Gerard called. “I’ll be back in a sec, Frankie.”

 

Frank listened from the kitchen as Bandit yelled, “Mommy!” at the appearance of her mother – Lindsey, Frank remembered. He waited as Gerard and Lindsey talked briefly before Gerard kissed his daughter goodbye and closed the door.

 

“You alright?” Frank asked as Gerard entered the kitchen.

 

“Yeah. Just, kinda gets to me sometimes. I know she’s safe with Lindsey, but I just…” Gerard trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Hey, c’mere,” Frank whispered, enveloping Gerard into his arms. Although Gerard didn’t cry, only sighed longingly, Frank held him tightly.

 

“Thanks Frank,” Gerard whispered.

 

Frank turned Gerard’s face to meet his. He opened his mouth to say something when Gerard lent forward and kissed him. The kiss quickly turned passionate and heated, Frank biting at Gerard’s lip as he pulled the other closer, his hands eagerly reaching under Gerard’s tee to grab at the curvy hips. Gerard moaned, fingers tangling in Frank’s dark hair.

 

“Do you want this?” Frank asked, voice somewhat muffled against Gerard’s lips.

 

“Fuck wanting, I need you,” Gerard said. “C’mon.” He grabbed Frank’s hand and led him upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fans self* things are getting a lil' steamy heeerree. I'm gonna keep this story rating at a T, BUT if you wanna read the sex scene, then I'm gonna upload it as a separate work so it'll be like a missing scene, and then chapter 7 (here) will continue after that.
> 
> if you're getting Apocalypse (X-Men) vibes from the Crackling, then good cause I pretty much had his voice in my head whilst writing that scene. Also, The Crackling IS NOT based off that Bert guy from The Used, I came up with it cos 'crack of lightning', blah blah blah.


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